Memories
by Zoja
Summary: Harm recalls the day he lost Mac and how his life looked after it.


I do not own JAG or its characters.

The idea came to me on 26th of May - the day that we celebrate Mother's Day in Poland.

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><p>It was supposed to be her first, perfect Mother's Day.<p>

Because our baby had not yet been born, I wasn't, strictly speaking, able to give her a Mother's Day gift, but I decided to do something to make this day special for her. I bought her a gift anyway, a gold necklace with a heart-shaped emerald pendant, around which were set small diamonds. I took a day off, telling her that the estate agent had called me and said that we had a property viewing, of a house that we might like and maybe think about buying. She couldn't take a day off, so I wasn't worried that she might discover my little lie. In reality I just wanted to have a lot of time to prepare everything for a dinner. A few times recently I had tried to convince her to go out for a dinner to restaurant, but she always said that she wasn't feeling strong enough to go out.

I was about in the half-way on the return trip from the shop to our apartment, when Bud called me. Mac had been taken to hospital. He told me that they were on the way to lunch when she had been shot by an officer dissatisfied with the trial verdict that had been reached. I immediately turned the car and drove to the hospital. I found the Admiral and Bud sitting by the doors to operating room. They knew only that the doctors had decided that the baby had to be delivered by C-section if it was to have a chance to live, and that it had taken to the obstetric department a while ago. The Doctors wouldn't tell the Admiral or Bud anything more, because they weren't family.

I sat on the chair next to the Admiral. My only thoughts were that I can't lose her; I won't make it without her. I couldn't imagine raising a child without her – I couldn't imagine her not holding our baby in her arms, that she might never see its first smile, first tooth, first step, she might never hear its first word, that she might never experience all the other firsts in a new life. I mentally reproved myself; I can't think like that, I have to believe that the doctor will soon come and tell me that everything's okay.

But when the doctor came out of the operation room and approached to me, I could see just by the expression on his face that it wasn't good news.

"Please... Tell me that she didn't..." I shook my head slightly, looking at him. I couldn't even bive voice to my thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Sir" he just said with a silent sigh "We did everything we could..."

I felt as if I had been suddenly separated from the world, like somebody had pumped all my strength from my body. Tears streamed down my face, I took a few step backs, leaned back on the wall and slowly slid to the ground. I sat like that, slumped against the wall, my knees pulled to my chest, with my elbows resisted on my knees, and my face hidden in my hands. I felt a hand on my arm and I saw that the Admiral was kneeling next to me.

"If I can do anything..." he started, and I just shook my head.

"You won't give her her life back..." I said, and I looked at Bud, who was sitting on the chair with a pale face, looking at me and saying something unintelligible.

"Sir..." he said finally, but his voice was shaking, and I saw fear in his eyes. "I'm so sorry... I didn't see that man earlier, only after I heard the shots..."

"You couldn't have done anything Bud... Even if you had seen him earlier..."

"I could have covered the Colonel, or pushed her out of the way... Sir, I'm really sorry..."

We sat silently for a long while, until I noticed a young nurse, approaching us.

"I'm looking for the Colonel's husband..." she said, and Admiral pointed at me "I'm really sorry about your wife, for your loss... I just wanted to ask if you want to see your daughter..."

"A daughter?" I asked, and she sent me a confused look, "We were told we are going to have a son..."

Seeing the look on her face I understood how that had sounded. She probably thought that I was dissatisfied that the baby turned out to be a girl and that maybe I didn't even want it. It was only when the Admiral told her that it was not the best of moments, and that I'd come, when I was ready, that she went away.

A short while later they let me see Mac. She was lying on the bed, covered by a sheet of blue material. I slowly approached her and turned down the sheet, exposing her face. She looked so calm, she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. I took her hand into mine, shaking her gently, and I used my other hand to smooth her hair away from her face and to gently caress her cheek.

"Mac..." I whispered, feeling the next wave of tears on my face "Why did you do this to me..? Why did you give up..? You always told me that Marines never give up... You shouldn't give up... Not at a time like this..."

I don't know how long I was in the room with her, but I left her there only when a nurse came and told me that I had to leave. When I rejoined Bud and the Admiral, I saw that there was one more person with them, a medium-height, slighter, older woman, I didn't expect to see here.

"Grandma..." I said, and I leaned towards her, hugging her tightly.

"The Admiral called me the moment she was brought here... He thought that you may need somebody from the family, and I was closer than your parents..." she sighed, kissing my head.

She said repeatedly to me, that everything was going to be okay. I knew that she was right, because she lived through something similar too. I also saw with my own eyes how my mother gathered herself together after my father was shot down. Deep in my heart I knew that the time heals the wounds, and as the days, weeks, months would pass, it would be easier for me to accept everything. Right now I didn't want to admit to this thought, especially as acceptance seemed to be very distant, unreachable, and even frightening.

"Nobody expect you to forget about her..." she said, when I finally moved away from her and shared my concerns with her "She is always going to have a place in your heart, which you will not give to anybody else. But right now you have to be strong, for this little treasure that she left you, and who needs you even more now..."

She then went with me to see my daughter. She was lying in the incubator. She was even smaller than I imagined, she could be. I could even see her veins through her almost transparent skin. She was moving her arms and legs, anxiously it seemed, but when I very gently touched her small hand, she calmed down.

"After we were told that the baby was going to be a boy, we didn't think about a name for a girl..." I sighed, gently caressing her arm.

"It's okay Harm... You have a lot of time to think about it..."

But I didn't need a time to think about what name I wanted to give her. If I had known what name Mac wanted her daughter to have, I would probably use that, but she never shared that with me. In this situation, I thought that of all the names that exist, only one of them is right for her – Sarah.

It wasn't easy for me to cope with this situation, but with a help from family and friends I succeeded. Even if the pain of losing Mac faded over the years, my love for her never lessened. Sometimes, at night, when I was going to little Sarah, I noticed that while I was still on my way, she suddenly calmed down, and when I entered the room I saw Mac, standing next to her, and trying to calm her. She usually smiled, when she saw me, and then disappeared. In the morning I never knew if it was just a recurring dream, or I really was seeing her. However I preferred the thought that it was her ghost which watches over little Sarah – because I am sure, that she watches over our little girl.

I wasn't the best father, but I was trying my best to be. I helped her as much as I could, and I always was a support for her. She knew, that regardless of circumstances, she could always count on me. Obviously, I didn't agree with all her decisions, because that was just impossible, but I never reproached her because she didn't listen to me – after all, it wasn't going to change anything. Instead, I was always happy when she succeeded, and comforted her when she experienced a defeat. Sometimes, especially when she started to grow up, I saw that she needed a mother much more, than me, but I did everything I could to make it easier for her. At times like that I always regretted that I wasn't able to be with somebody again, like my mother had been. But after much thinking about it, I just couldn't open my heart to somebody else, and I couldn't imagine anybody else raising my child.

For years I watched how much Sarah is becoming more and more like Mac. They not only look very similar, but they also have a similar personality. Sometimes I wondered if the only similarity between me and my daughter is that she, the same as me at her age, was trying to be like a parent whom she lost. Every year we visited Mac's grave on the date of her death and Sarah's birth, and she always told Mac, that she would be the same as her mother was. I didn't know if I really wanted her to be like Mac, because I knew that it meant her joining the Marine Corps, and that might put her into danger. And because at school she was always the star pupil, I hoped that she would choose a civilian career. I was a bit disappointed, when she made her choice and went to Annapolis.

Only after I went there to see her graduation, and I saw her in a Marine Corps uniform that I understood that there was no better career for her. I was probably the proudest parent there, when her name was read as the best student on the year, and I watched her getting awards for her achievements. I also couldn't stop wondering at how much she looked like Mac – when I placed a photo of Sarah in her uniform, next to the one of me and Mac in JAG HQ a lot of people thought it was the same person. I knew that there were differences – Sarah's hair was completely straight, her skin wasn't olive as her mother, and she was some inches taller than her. But they seemed to not notice it.

Suddenly, I saw Mac, standing in her uniform among the parents and looking at our daughter with pride. She looked exactly how I remembered her from all the years we worked together. Then she turned to me, gave me a wide smile and saluted, and when I blinked and looked again, she was gone.


End file.
